


Sons of the Son

by Not_Your_Average_Khalessi



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 00:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Your_Average_Khalessi/pseuds/Not_Your_Average_Khalessi
Summary: Abel and Thomas Teller have grown up. For as lomg as they can remember, they've only had the horror stories about their father. He was a murderer, an outlaw. But with the death of his mother, Abel becomes determined to find out the truth. Was Jackson Teller the cold blooded killer they said? Or was he a victim of unfortunate circumstances?





	1. Chapter 1

My father loved me. That's the one thing in my life I know to be true. As I watched, for the second time in my life, the woman I called ‘mom' be lowered into the ground I knew I had to find the truth about my father. He wasn't the monster they told us he was. He couldn't be. Every single flash of a memory I have of him, he was smiling; or telling Thomas and I he loved us. How could a  _ monster _ hold so much love in his heart?

I stood at the mouth of her grave as everyone began to shuffle away. Thomas and Nero, who leaned casually on his cane with his bad knee perpetually bent, stood by the car a few feet away. I scooped up a handful of dirt and let it fall through my fingers down into the grave. 

“I’m sorry, mom,” I whispered. “I’m sorry that I can’t be the son you wanted me to be. I have to know the truth about him. I  _ have  _ to.” 

“Abel!” Thomas called. “We gotta go people are gonna beat us to the house.” I kissed my fingers and placed them on the top her stone. The five words carved there couldn’t even begin to describe her: 

_ Wendy Case _

_ Mother _

_ Wife _

_ Friend _

I turned my back and went to my brother and step father. For a long time, I just hugged them. I could feel Thomas crying against my shoulder. Nero, forever our rock, just squeezed me. When we were finally in the car, we let the silence overcome us. No sad songs, no more people saying how sorry they were for our loss. 

“I know you’re tired, Abel,” Nero said as if reading my mind, “but your mom...she would have really wanted this; To know people still cared about her.” I knew he was right. People had only visited her in the hospital the first week. For the last six, it was just us three. 

“If they cared where have they all been for the last two months while she was dying?” It came out with more of a snap than I had intended. I winced a little when he sighed.

“It’s okay,” he insisted when I went to apologize. “You’ve always been that way Abel, pushing everyone away under pressure. You’re father did it too.” That stung in my chest. But I couldn’t ask Nero about it. He refused to talk about the man that, in his last words to me, had called him his best friend. 

The road shifted to the dirt path to our little farm. The horses trotted alongside the fence, following the car. I slowed to a crawl so Thomas could stick his hand out the window and pet their snouts as had become his habit since we had come here as children. I smiled as I watched him. My joy was cut when I saw the cars parked out front, waiting for us to arrive. A few people were waiting on the front porch, sitting on the porch swing and on the railing and chatting idly with each other. As we approached, they quieted. I left Thomas to help Nero up the porch while I unlocked the front door. I stopped before I opened it. 

“I just wanna say something before we go inside.” I watched the panic spread across Nero’s face. “My mom...she loved you all. And I know she’d be glad to see everyone together, celebrating the  _ incredible  _ woman she was.” There were a few murmurs of agreement and I finally let everyone in. Nero was visibly relieved and I had to laugh at him.

“I’d never disrespect her funeral like that,” I whispered as I helped him to his armchair in the den. We hugged again and he sent me on my way. I found Thomas in the kitchen, slowly unwrapping food and staring off at the wall. I had to seize the moment alone. 

“Hey, Tommy,” I said, leaning on the door frame. He made a face at me.

“Jeez are you ever going to stop calling me that?” he asked. “I’m not a kid anymore, Abel. It’s Thomas.” I genuinely laughed for the first time in weeks. 

“No way, man. You’ll always be Tommy to me.” I ruffled his hair. He swatted me away and made another face. 

“Unless you’re gonna help me get outta here.” I took a place next to him and began to unwrap trays. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something while we’re alone,” I began hesitantly. He cast a glance at me but didn’t say anything. “If, now that’s a really big ‘if’......if I were to take a trip...would you want to go with me?” Now it was his turn to laugh.

“And where do you purpose we go? Nero needs our help to keep this place going. And without mo…..without Wendy, it’s just us until I go back to school.” 

“It would only be a week. And we have enough in savings to hire a couple people while we’re gone. If anything goes seriously wrong we could be back in a day.”

“You still haven’t told me where,” Thomas said, beginning to walk away to set out the food. I stopped him, my hand catching his elbow. I answered him in one word:

“Charming.”


	2. Chapter Two

Thomas just stared at me blankly before he shut the door to the kitchen, setting the tray he carried back onto the table. 

“Are you  _ out  _ of your frickin’ mind?” he asked, leaning on his palms and hanging his head.

“I thought I was at first too,” I replied. “Listen, when mom started getting sicker, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things her and Nero ever told us about dad.” He winced. He had never known our father. He was just a baby when he died so all he ever had to go on was the horrible things they had told us about him. 

“What was there to think about?!” he yelled. I shushed him.

“Please, Tommy,” I pleaded. “Don’t freak. Not now. Not  _ here. _ ” He scoffed and began to leave again. “Please don’t say anything to Nero,” I said to his back. He stopped in the doorway. “Tommy, I’m going with or without you. I want you to go. I really do. You deserve the truth just as much, if not  _ more _ , I do. You don’t remember dad. But I  _ do _ . I remember the last time we ever saw him before he killed himself. I remember him hugging us both and telling us how much he loved us.” I was crying before I realized it. 

“Every memory is like that, Tommy. Every memory I have is him saying he loved us.  _ How  _ can a man who loved us so much have been the psycho they said he was? Killing people in cold blood? That wasn’t dad. I  _ know  _ it in my heart. And I  _ know _ on some level you know that too. But if you’re  _ not  _ gonna go and try to find the truth, then I have to ask that you don’t say anything about it until I figure out what to say to him myself.” 

Not once did he turn to look at me. He simply walked away, letting the door swing shut behind him. I sighed, taking a moment to wipe my face and collect myself before I followed him. Everyone had gathered in the den, looking at our photos on the wall and telling happy anecdotes about my mother. I took the empty seat next to Nero and listened, learning things about her I had never known. As I finally began to relax, forgetting the incident in the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I excused myself to answer it. There was a woman I had never seen before, holding a large arrangement of lilies. She was older, her hair greying but showing signs of where it had once been red. She peered at me over the tops of the gold frames of her big glasses and recoiled a bit. 

“ _ Abel?”  _ she asked, her voice ladened with shock. 

“Yes,” I replied hesitantly. “I’m sorry I uh...I can’t say I remember you.” She chuckled. 

“No I didn’t think you would. You were all of five years old the last time I saw you. My name Margaret Murphy. I knew your mother, well  _ both  _ of them, a long time ago.I heard about Wendy’s passing and I wanted to pay my respects.” She held the flowers out to me. 

“Ah I see,” I said, the pang in my chest returning. “Won’t you please come inside? I’m afraid you missed the funeral service but we’re just inside…” She took a step back.

“No no that’s alright,” she insisted. “I just wanted to stop by to say how sorry I am for your loss. Wendy….she had her demons. But she was a good woman.” She turned away and began walking back to her car.

“Wait!” I called after her retreating back., setting the flowers on the railing and chasing after her. I stopped her before she could take get into her car. “Wait just a second, please. How did you know my mother? In the last twenty years we’ve been here I’ve never heard her mention anyone named ‘Margaret Murphy’. Who are you?” She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“It's...complicated,” she finally said. And really not my place to say.” The defeat must have shown on my face. She reached out and hand comfortingly on my arm. “If they didn’t tell you, Abel….I'm sure there was a reason.” Her smile was warm. 

As she climbed into her car, I stopped her again.

“At least answer me  _ one _ question.” She stopped, her hand on the key, and nodded. “Was it Charming? When you knew my mother?” She chewed on her lip thoughtfully, seeming to debate whether or not she would answer me. After a long time, she nodded again. I thanked her and let her go, watching her car until it was out of sight. My head was spinning. This felt like a sign that I was  _ meant  _ to go back. I was actually  _ giddy _ but I had to remind myself where I was before I returned. No one noticed as I slipped back in, leaving the new flower arrangement on the table in front of me. As everyone chatted away, I let my mind wander. Would Charming be everything I imagined? Would the questions I went with get the answers I wanted?

The thoughts made my stomach twist. For now, I just had to have some hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers! I just want to apologize for taking this long with updates. In an unfortunate set of circumstances I lost EVERYTHING I had written for this story and it actually made me so upset I swore I was done; that I wouldn't rewrite. But I just couldn't stay away :) I'll have 2 or 3 more chapters will coming in the next few days once I get my computer running fully.

In the days after the funeral, I planned. Mostly I planned my excuse to Nero. What could I possibly tell him that would make him believe me? He knew I had always had this burning desire to know my father ever since I was ten years old. But after a talk about how the questions made mom sad, I stopped and never said another word about it. 

“You're really set on going?” Thomas asked one day while we were shoveling stalls in the barn. 

“I am,” I replied, leaning on the shovel and wiping sweat from my brow. “Tommy I told you why I have to do this. I want you to go but I don't…” 

“I'll go,” he interjected. I almost fell over in shock. 

“Are….are you sure?” I stammered. He didn't look at me, just mumbled something I couldn't understand. “What did you say?” I prodded. He looked at me.

“I said you were right.” He spat the word out. It was the one thing he couldn't stand to say. “Dad…..I don't know maybe he really was the guy you think. Maybe he was the guy they told us he was. Will never know if we don't go find out for ourselves.” I let the shovel fall and embraced him. He hugged back for a moment before he pushed me away. 

“Thank you, Tommy,” I said, patting his face.

“Don't get too excited. I have one….little condition.” He paused a second and chewed his lip. “We have to tell Nero the truth. That's the only way I get on board.” I pushed a hand through my hair and sighed. 

“He’ll never understand.”

“Who won't understand what?” a voice asked from the doorway. We turned to find Nero standing there, worry lining his face. Tommy gave me a look. Now or never. 

“Uh...you actually,” I said after a moment. “Take a seat, Nero.” I pulled up a stool and helped him sit before grabbing one for Thomas and myself. 

“Is everything okay, son?” he asked, the concern showing plainly on his face. 

“I'm fine,” I said, trying to offer what little comfort I could before I hurt him. “We're fine it's just ah….God how do I say this? We thought...well I thought and talked Tommy into it...that it might be time for us to....to go back to Charming; Learn about our roots.” It wasn't a lie per se. I just couldn't take the pain on his face if I brought up dad. But Tommy, ever the truth teller, outed me immediately.

“We wanna know about dad,” he said. For a long time, Nero looked at the ground before he finally reached for his cane and held out his hand for one of us to help him up. 

“Walk with me for a minute, boys,” he said through the groan the pain in his knee caused him. We did as he asked, following him out into the field. He walked us in silence to the back where our property ended and the open sky began. 

“Some part of me always knew this day would come,” he finally said. “I know I can't stop you boys from going. You're both beyond old enough to make your own choices.” Thomas and I exchanged a glance. So not the speech we were expecting.

“Nero I…” He held his hand up to stop me.

“Just...let me finish please. Look out there, boys.” We did, scanning across the blue sky and vibrant bushes and trees. From somewhere among them, a fox chittered. “Your father...he asked your mother and I to give you this life; to take you out of Charming and keep you away from it, and all the crap that comes with it.” He sighed and leaned on the fence.

“Nero we don't want to upset you,” I began when he didn't say anything else. “You raised us. We will always see you as the father we didn't get. And there will never be any way we can ever express enough gratitude for everything you and mom gave up for us. But we deserve to know more about Jackson Teller than the murderer you said he was. There was a man under the monster and that's who we want to know.” He nodded slowly.

“Yeah, you're right. There was a man under the monster but, sons, hear me when I say that man died with Tara. Please...try not to be upset when you don't get the answers you want to hear.” We both hugged him tightly for a long time. Now that he knew, all that was left was to start packing.


End file.
